


Moon is Down

by VeteranKlaus



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [13]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24264460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: Klaus had just manifested Ben and his siblings' faces are all still frozen in awe at the sight of their ghostly brother, or where he had been, now invisible once more after taking care of the Commission gunmen. Then Klaus realises Ben's face has shifted from awe to horror as he stares at Klaus.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1385572
Comments: 58
Kudos: 966





	Moon is Down

**Author's Note:**

> For the bad things happen bingo prompt: doesn't realise they've been injured.   
> Shout out to TotallynotRemus for the idea! Thanks dear <3

It comes naturally to him. As if a piece of a puzzle has slid into place; a key into a lock. A chill runs through his veins and it feels as if a pressure is building up beneath his skin; a knot growing within his chest, and then it all just flows out. His hands begin to glow an icy blue, illuminating the place around him and lighting him up like a beacon, and then – it devours Ben, too. Ben’s appearance slips from his normal one to the transparent, ghostly blue form he takes whenever Klaus, or anyone else, stepped through Ben, or, as of recently, the form he took whenever he was physically touched, and Klaus knows in that moment he has done what he has been trying to; he has manifested Ben once more.

His brother takes a few steps forwards, growing used to the feeling of the floor beneath his feet again, the feeling of being anchored to the Earth rather than being anchored to Klaus, and then, without a second thought, he looks around and lets the Horror out.

Ghostly blue tentacles shoot out from his brother’s torso, eager to get out and taste blood for the first time in a decade. They dance through the air and lash out at the Commission’s gunmen around them; they curl around them, keep curling tighter and tighter and tighter until there is a sickening crack; they throw them against walls with enough force that the wall crumbles; they tear them in half and throw the remains away and reach for the next one.

In the centre of it all is Klaus. He maintains his grip on Ben, keeping his brother and his Horror corporeal. It is draining, yes, more draining than their games of patty-cake, but he keeps it going on as long as he physically can, and despite feeling drained from it, he can’t help but feel elated, too. He had been afraid that he might not succeed in manifesting Ben like he knew he had, thanks to the mishap in the bowling alley where his powers didn’t comply with him, but now he has gone and done it again, and he couldn’t have done it at a better time, either.

There are a lot of Commission members on them, making it nearly impossible to try and group together and come up with a plan on how to stop Vanya, who they are rapidly running out of time to deal with them. It’s only inevitable that Vanya blows up, their time slipping through their fingers like sand, but the Commission is succeeding in distracting them and preventing them from dealing with her, but there is too many of them for them to deal with, too. Luther can’t get close to them to fight them, Allison can’t rumour them, Diego has to retrieve his knives after throwing them, and Klaus is no good at fighting either – although, had he not been able to conjure Ben, he had his sights on a discarded gun nearby and it looked close enough to the one he used in ‘Nam that he’d be able to use it with the same skill. So, really, Five is the only one who can get close enough to fight them, because he can teleport away – but he can’t keep it up forever, and it’s only inevitable that he won’t get away quick enough one time.

Lookout, Klaus thinks gleefully. They’ll never be able to call him just a lookout again after this; after he just saved all of their asses.

Ben takes out the last Commission member and the Horror returns to his chest, satisfied, and Klaus’ hands fall as the energy coursing through him dampens slightly as Ben returns back to being invisible and incorporeal. His face is stretched with a grin and his eyes are wide with awe, mirroring the expressions of their siblings who have been watching Ben since he appeared, and Klaus thinks it is the first real grin he has seen on his brother’s face since his death. He turns to look at Klaus, laughing slightly, and Klaus returns the grin and the laugh.

He’s breathless, he realises. And trembling faintly. Manifesting Ben for the longest period of time, along with also manifesting his Horror, has left his body feeling shaky with adrenaline; his knees feel a little weak, and he is just so pleased with himself; a little gleeful to be able to spite his siblings ideas of him being useless; a little gleeful like he is every time he manifests Ben and gives him the chance to be corporeal, and now in front of his siblings, too, forcing them to acknowledge him.

He grins at Ben, and then he turns to grin at his siblings. He knows they won’t have time to discuss Ben’s appearance, but he is hoping to see their awed and incredulous expressions, just so he can have at least a moment to gloat. And he does catch them; he sees their eyes staring at where their brother just had been, but is no longer visible to them. And then their eyes all jump to Klaus, as astonished as he wants, and Klaus preens under their gazes for once, and then-

“Klaus?” Says Diego, voice carrying through the sudden silence in the theatre. When did Vanya stop playing?

“Who’s the lookout now?” He jokes – or, he tries to. It’s what he means to say. He inhales and the air gets caught in his throat, and he chokes on it. Instead of words the only sound that comes out of his mouth is a wheeze. It feels as if someone has curled their fist around his lungs and squeezed them tight, refusing to let him breathe in properly, and there is a pressure all throughout his chest. Without his attention set on Ben, he is suddenly aware of the tense pressure all throughout his body; the lack of air he can get.

“ _Klaus_ ,” echoes Ben, eyes wide with horror, staring at his chest. Klaus wants to tell him that _his eyes are up here_ , but he suddenly _knows_.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have simply stood tall in the middle of a shooting.

Slowly, his eyes begin to drop down, down, down, and he sees the red stripes on his shirt have all melted together, turning his shirt a solid red that flows from his chest. Still moving slowly, he lifts one of his hands up and to his chest, where his shirt is torn and blood is oozing from his skin. His fingers touch the wound and the world comes flooding back to him in an instant; he can’t breathe, his body is on fire, and his siblings are rushing at him. His knees give out and he tries to catch himself on one of the chairs nearby, but his hand slips and he tumbles onto the ground.

He hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten hit – hadn’t even felt it. He had been too focused on maintaining his connection with Ben that the gunshots and yelling had turned to white noise in his ears. He hadn’t noticed a thing. He had – he had saved them, right? He had helped them, the Commission couldn’t fight Ben – how was – how-

He holds one hand to his chest as if trying to hide the ugly wound from his view, as if that without being able to see it he might be able to convince himself it isn’t there at all, and his other hand tries to prop himself up on the floor before the pain becomes too much and he brings it up to the wound as well. He slumps against the nearest chair, using it to hold himself somewhat upright.

And then there are people crowding around him. Five is there first with a flash of blue, and then he is kneeling in front of him, reaching out to take Klaus’ hands and move them away so he can get a look at the wound. Then the others are there, coming close. Five pushes his hands down onto his chest and Klaus cries out when it sparks a fire in his chest; he tries to shove at his hands again, but Five only shoves his hands away and keeps pushing, pushing, pushing.

A hand on his shoulder urges him backwards, back, back, back, and the world spins, and he’s laying down. Diego keeps a hand on him, holding him down when he squirms away from Five’s hands, and Allison is tugging Luther’s jacket sleeve until he takes it off and passes it to Five, who uses it to press even harder down on his chest. Klaus’ head tips backward and he moans in protest, only for something to catch in the back of his throat. He inhales, and it gets caught, and he coughs and coughs, trying to dislodge whatever is in his throat until he gags. He turns his head to the side and coughs and gags and something trickles out of his mouth.

“Klaus – look at me,” says Ben, pushing through Diego and Ben. “Klaus – you’re – you’re gonna be okay – it’s okay, look at me-“

“Five-“

“Vanya? We-“

“Klaus, hey-“

Five is crushing his ribs, he thinks. He tries to shove him off, but still, it never works. “I – I can’t-“ He splutters, gasping. “I can’t _breathe_ – _Five_ , stop – stop-“

“He needs help, Five-“

“K-Klaus?”

He wonders, idly, if this is what Dave felt like. He had been shot in a similar way, after all. Was this the pain he had been suffering through for a similar eternity before Klaus turned to him, already too late. Did his lungs burn for air like Klaus’ do now? Could he feel blood flooding up his throat, choking him? Only, at least for Klaus, someone seems to notice the way he gurgles on his blood, choking and half-gagging against it, and someone turns his head to the side, letting it trickle out his mouth rather than build up and choke him.

The urgency at not being able to breathe and the pain coming from the hands of whoever is pressing down on his chest slowly begins to recede like a wave. He detaches himself from the pain as if it is being numbed by painkillers, and he is relieved at the chance to be able to relax a little; allowing his tense muscles to unwind, allowing himself to stop panicking so much.

Idly, he wonders if Dave could relax a little when Klaus took him into his arms, oblivious to Klaus’ yelling and crying; just as oblivious to it as Klaus is now.

###

Klaus wakes up in a place that is black and white.

He sits up, looking around at the familiar setting, and then he slumps. “Oh, shit.”

“You could say that.”

He startles, turning to watch as the little girl he had met before comes wandering out of a trail delving into the trees. He hurries upright onto his feet and looks down at his chest, and is surprised to see no wound there; not even a single trace of blood.

“I’m dead,” he states, and she gives him a dumb look.

“Of course you’re dead. You got shot in the chest.”

“Right,” says Klaus, awkwardly, and then he looks around. “Well, uh. Time to send me back?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

“You didn’t seem in such a rush to go back last time,” she comments. Klaus shrugs.

“Well, uh, I’m kind of in the middle of something, so… you know. It’d be nice if you just –“ he gestures vaguely. “Got on with it.”

The little girl just stands there, staring at him, and so he raises his eyebrows questioningly. “What? What is it? Don’t tell me I’ve got another conversation with my Dad – we can skip that, seriously.”

She arches one of her eyebrows, and then she points. Klaus’ eyes follow it to see her pointing at yet another building not far away from them, but this one looks different to the first one. He turns back to ask her a question but finds that she is already gone.

He knows he ought to be trying to get back to his family; should be trying to figure out if he can force his way back or if he can piss the little girl off enough to send him back quickly, but instead he takes a step closer to the building, and then another, and another.

It is a small cottage, he realises; fitting in perfectly with the countryside surroundings. There is a fence out front and a chimney with smoke curling upwards from the roof, and there are little flowerbeds around the front of it, too, though the flowers are all in black and white. It doesn’t seem like Reginald’s kind of place to be.

So, he sets his hand on the handle and opens it.

It smells like freshly baked bread, he thinks. The place is sweet and idealistic, like something right out of a fairy-tale, and he can’t even fathom who might be waiting in here for him.

(He can hope for a certain someone, but he finds it hurts more when he has hope only for it to be stamped out like always.)

There is a cute little sitting area around a lit fire place (still black and white) that kind of hurts his eyes to look at due to the monochromatic hue of everything. The fire crackles softly in the air and there is a flower vase on a shelf hanging over the fireplace. He wonders what colour it the flowers inside are supposed to be.

There is a book on the coffee table next to a tea cup. Another book at the other end. An odd geometric rug underneath the table that he thinks ought to be full of neon colours. There are a lot of plants. Whoever is here must like gardening. Not a single cannabis plant, however, and so Klaus truly has no idea who he might know that might live here.

There is a shuffle behind him and Klaus braces himself to face whoever might be there, and then he turns around.

The living room extends to a joint kitchen, he realises. There is a small round dining table, too, with a few chairs at it. There is a pot of water boiling on the stove, and by said pot of water is a person, staring at Klaus with wide eyes and a small smile. Klaus’ stomach does a weird thing inside his body and his jaw drops slightly in surprise.

“ _Dave_?” He says, voice high with shock.

Sure enough, Dave stands there in all his glory, no bloody wound in his chest; his hair slightly curled, eyes crinkling with his smile.

“Hi there, doll,” he says, voice smooth like honey and music to Klaus’ ears, and it rattles him to his core. In the distance of his memories, he can still hear the way he had choked on his own blood, rasping for breath, and to hear him now – perfectly fine. It shakes him.

Klaus forces himself out of his frozen state so that he can rush forwards, all but throwing himself at Dave; he wraps his arms around his torso, hooking over the backs of his shoulders, and presses his face into the crook of his neck. He is warm to the touch, steady and firm against him, and when he returns the embrace it is heavy and solid and real and Klaus melts into him.

“Dave,” he croaks, again and again, “Dave, Dave, oh my god – you’re here-“

“I’m right here, Klaus. Right here,” he murmurs in response, turning his head so he can press a kiss to the side of Klaus’. He squeezes him gently, runs one hand down his back and remains there until Klaus pulls back slightly, blinking his blurry vision into clarity and feeling a consequential tear slide down his cheek. He lifts his trembling hands up to hold either side of Dave’s face gently and for a long moment he simply stares at him, taking in his face and the glossiness to his eyes, the dimples by his wide smile, the curl of his eyelashes, and then he leans in so that he can kiss him, soft and gentle and desperate, something he wished he’d done a hundred times before he lost the chance to do it again.

“I was trying to – to conjure you for days,” Klaus stammers when they part again, his hands sliding down to grip Dave’s arms. “I was trying to find you, but I just – I couldn’t, I-“

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay,” says Dave, shaking his head. “I know you were trying, I know. But I’m here now, right?”

Smiling tearfully, Klaus nods his head and brings one hand up to wipe underneath his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, voice small. “Yeah, of course. But – why?”

He gives a pointed look around their surroundings and Dave lets out a small chuckle. He takes one of Klaus’ hands and guides him to the couch opposite the fireplace so they can both sit down. He doesn’t let go of Klaus’ hand and Klaus squeezes his fingers gently, a part of him still amazing to be able to feel Dave again; to hear his voice; to see him as he was, walking and talking and right in front of him, whole.

“It’s been a while,” Dave says. “For me. After you left, I just… came here, and I’ve been here since.”

“I went back,” says Klaus, staring at their hands. “After – after, I ran. I ran away, Dave. I left everyone there, I couldn’t stay after that.”

Dave gives him an understanding smile. “I know,” he says, squeezing his hand. “And that’s okay. No one would have blamed you. Okay? You hear me?” He reaches out, placing one hand on his cheek and Klaus can’t help but turn his head into it slightly, letting his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment to savour the feeling. “Hmm?” Dave urges, and Klaus’ shoulders slump.

“I know,” he utters, opening his eyes and covering Dave’s hand on his cheek with one of his own, curling his fingers around Dave’s.

“How are you here, them?” Asks Dave, shifting slightly. “This place… how could you get here?”

Klaus’ eyes flit away guiltily and he purses his lips. Dave ducks his head back into his line of sight, giving him a look, and Klaus sighs.

“I, uh. Died,” he states bluntly and then cringes at his own word choice. “It wasn’t bad – well, a little bit, but it’s fine! Totally fine!” He lifts his hand up to tap at his chest where he remembers that pain blossoming from, and then realises it truly is almost identical to where Dave’s was, now he can see his chest again and imagine where it had been. “Nothing here.”

Dave’s eyes drop to the hand on his chest, and then he reaches out one of his own to press it there with an odd expression. “What happened?” He asks, gentle, hesitant. Klaus rests his hand on his wrist, running his thumb along his skin.

After several moments of hesitation, Klaus answers, “I got shot.”

Dave doesn’t respond for a while and Klaus wonders if perhaps he is imagining it; picturing it in his head, what it might have been like for Klaus. He would know what that pain was like; he would know what Klaus had felt, and that it had not been easy or all that quick.

He pulls Klaus against him, then, and Klaus returns the embrace quickly, squeezing Dave.

“Hey, it’s fine, I’m fine now,” he says, running his fingers through the hair at the bottom of his head. “I’m totally fine now – and I’m here! I’m with you, and we can be together again, right?” He pulls back so that he can smile encouragingly at Dave, who returns it only to falter after a moment.

“You can’t stay here, Klaus,” he murmurs. “You can’t be dead. It’s – it’s not your time yet.”

“What?” Says Klaus, eyebrows furrowing. “Well, I want to be here with you. I’m fine with that, Dave – I just want to be with you, and here we can be – don’t you want that?” He asks, voice wavering slightly.

Dave tips his head to the side. “Of course I do,” he says, but his voice sounds… odd. A little muffled, Klaus thinks. As if he’s getting distant, and – no, no, no-

“But I don’t want you dead-“

“Dave, I don’t want to go,” Klaus insists, raising his voice.

“You know I love you more than anything-“

“Dave, please-“

“You gotta go back, Klaus-“

“Dave-“

He reaches out, gently cupping Klaus’ face, but the touch feels faint now, and Klaus grips desperately onto him, shaking his head in protest and crying. “You need to live, Klaus,” Dave says, and then, “I’ll be there. I’ll be there, okay, I’ll be-“

###

Klaus wakes up three days later. Or, technically, six days earlier.

He recognises the Academy’s infirmary almost immediately. The firm mattress beneath his body, the bright lights, the smell of disinfectant and the feel of an IV secured in the back of his hand accompanied by the itchy sensation of a nasal cannula settled snug against his nose.

It takes him a while to make his body listen to himself. He pries his eyes open, then screws them shut again when the lights burn. He wiggles a bit, exhales heavily and groans, and then there’s a hand on his arm.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, Klaus – take it easy.”

That’s Luther. Klaus recognises his voice and the feel of a leather glove on a large hand – larger than Diego’s.

It is not who he expected to wake up to, to be honest, but this entire week (really, the past ten months for him) have not been predictable at all.

Klaus tries to open his eyes again and is pleased to see Luther must have dimmed them; they are a lot less harsh on his eyes now. Luther is standing by his bed, face twisted in concern.

“How are you?” He asks. “Do you – do you remember what happened, Klaus? Are you in pain?”

Klaus lazily waves one hand, though the gesture is much smaller than he wanted for he finds his hand to be heavier than he expected and it flops back down on his lap quickly. He swallows dryly, tests his tongue in his mouth, and croaks out, “I remember.”

Luther visibly relaxes a little, nodding. “Okay, okay. That’s good. Are you in pain?”

Klaus shakes his head. He’s mildly uncomfortable, a distant ache in his chest, but it isn’t painful. Luther once more nods and then says, “I’m going to go get everyone else, okay? I’ll be a second.”

Klaus watches him scurry out, and then he turns to the other person in the room.

“Hey.”

Klaus wiggles his fingers as Ben slides over. “You gave us a scare, Klaus,” he says, frowning and flexing his hands by his side. “We thought – you _were_ dead, Klaus. For a while. Five, he had to send us back – back in time, to the start of that week with Dad’s funeral, because the Academy was destroyed and Mom dead and we wouldn’t be able to get out of the theatre. I thought you were gone for good, jackass.”

“Sorry,” Klaus croaks unapologetically. “Didn’t mean to get shot.”

“You better not have,” says Ben, eying him sarcastically. At the statement, Klaus runs his hand gingerly over his own chest where he can feel the soft padding of bandages.

“I got shot,” he echoes. Ben sighs, nodding.

“Are you okay?”

Klaus looks up at the ceiling, humming quietly, though he has to stop quickly for he runs out of breath too soon. He thinks back to what happened – being shot, like Dave had. Seeing Dave. What he had said – a look around the room shows that Dave is not there.

But the others are. His siblings rush the room, following by Grace, and he is bombarded with questions – how he feels, if he’s okay, what the fuck happened, was that Ben, Klaus, seriously –

“I just died,” Klaus moans feebly, turning his head away from them. “Let me process it.”

The room quietens awkwardly and he cringes, deciding it is, indeed, too soon to take it so lightly. He hurries to turn the conversation elsewhere as Grace begins checking him over now he is awake. So, he turns to Vanya, and then to Five, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“I… thought it best to send us back in time,” says Five, coming closer. “I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t think we could get you to a hospital quick enough, but I thought maybe sending us back in times would replace our consciousness into our previous bodies – so you wouldn’t have been hurt. But it didn’t work like that. At least we got to the Academy and Grace was here. Vanya donated blood.”

Klaus nods at Vanya with a small smile, then asks, “so, there’s two of me?”

“What?” Asks Five, eyes narrowed. “No. Our presence wiped out our original one. There are no clones of us here.”

“Bummer,” Klaus sighs, melting back in bed and closing his eyes for a moment. Then. “Vanya-“

“Has powers. You’ve been unconscious for three days, and we’ve managed to… somewhat figure it out. Dad supressed her powers when we were young because she was powerful and he didn’t know how to deal with them. In the theatre, when she saw Ben and then you – it snapped her out of it a bit. Some damage had been done – it would have been best to try and time travel anyway, whether or not you had been hurt. We’ve started weaning her off her medication and then we’re going to start training her.”

Klaus hums his acknowledgement, turning his gaze to his sister and he smiles. “’s good,” he says, managing to extend one hand out, urging her to come close and take it. “Y’know I love you, right?”

“Klaus, if I hadn’t-“

“Nope, don’t,” he says, dismissing her by gently squeezing her hand with the strength he can muster – despite only just waking up, he suddenly feels exhausted again. “None of that’s your fault. Okay? It’s fine.”

He wants to say more, he does, but his tongue feels heavy and he hopes he conveys the main message, at the very least, but she does smile a little at him so perhaps he did.

“You’re still stuck here,” Diego says, piping up. “Bedrest. You need a lot of it.”

“How… _fun_ …” Klaus drawls breathily, offering a small quirk of his lips. He’s never done well with bedrest as long as he can remember, but maybe a bullet in his chest will make it a bit easier to deal with.

“We’ll bring stuff from your room, if you want – stuff to do. And we’ll sit-“

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Klaus utters, blinking at him. Diego frowns for a moment, exchanging a look with one of their siblings.

“Hey, we’re – we’re here for you, Klaus. You just – you died. We want to be here for you.”

And, well, Klaus is tired, definitely not getting a little emotional because he remembers the hundreds of scenarios he wished he had heard that from any one of his siblings when he was alone on the streets, and now here he is, getting it. Maybe Dave had a point – maybe he needs to keep living.

“You ought to rest,” murmurs Luther, picking up on his obvious fatigue. “We’ll stay here with you. You can sleep.”

Klaus eyes him, unsure of how to respond to Luther being – kind towards him, so he simply swallows and nods, giving up on the idea of being able to trick them into letting him out. He’s too tired for that at the minute.

They all settle down around him, committing to Diego’s statement of wanting to be there rather than just saying it and leaving like they had before, and Klaus closes his eyes so they don’t see any emotions in them, and-

“They’re right.”

The voice cuts through the gentle chatter of his siblings, discussing Vanya, he thinks, and perhaps Klaus too, about getting him out of the infirmary later.

His heart skips a painful beat and he lifts his head up to watch someone walk into the infirmary, wearing heavy boots and a green shirt and a vest and a gorgeous smile.

“Get some rest, dear,” says Dave. “And I’ll be right here.”


End file.
